


Team Canada: Cold Company

by orphan_account



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, MindCrack RPF
Genre: Army, Gun Violence, battlefield AU, beef is sergeant ofc, etho swears and also likes throwing grenades lol, i think theres supposed to be 4 in a squad but theres 3 because its my au, its not MAJORLY graphic descriptions lol just kinda in there ig, kinda violent ig, pause hates gun cocking, yeahhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26093512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Etho loves to piss Pause off by cocking that sweet, shiny gun of his.
Relationships: Alex Edgar | PauseUnpause/Etho, Alex Edgar | PauseUnpause/Etho/Daniel M. | VintageBeef
Kudos: 18





	Team Canada: Cold Company

**Author's Note:**

> Hii! This was something I started late May and I’ve been pushing through extremely tough writer’s block with it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this :)
> 
> Inspired by a mission in Battlefield: Bad Company 2

When Etho breathed in, he could feel the heat crawling down his throat. 

He could probably choke on the heat, feeling its merciless wrath. His gear felt like it was pulling him down into the ground, making him sink into the soft dirt and sand as he followed his sergeant through the not-so shaded wood.

Etho fidgeted with the gun in his hands. Fingering the trigger but never firing, cocking it again and again. He was probably driving his squad crazy - hell, he knew it was driving Pause insane, _especially_ when he glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows and lips parted as if to bark a snide comment.

It was always fun to irritate Pause.

Luckily for Pause, he was interrupted by Beef’s harsh orders to drop to the floor and to fall silent. “Patrol,” Beef breathed, looking down upon the path beneath them - sure enough; a small patrol made their way down the path, talking lightly between each other. Laughter rose from them and Etho raised his eyebrows, a question sparking: were they taking the job seriously?

“Squeeze the trigger on 1…” Beef instructed quietly beside him. Etho sighed, pulling his gun to his eye and looking through the scope. He held his breath, focusing on the soldiers and that sweet spot in the middle of their forehead. He couldn’t tell what they looked like, but their voices - they were all from different places. 

Besides him, Pause picked up on this too. He shifted in a (successful) attempt to hide his nationalism and aimed more closely.

The hairs on the back of Etho’s neck rose when Beef finished his countdown. He pulled the trigger, the sound ringing in his ears and gun vibrating in his hands — if the gun wasn’t so heavy, he probably could’ve flown back.

One of the patrol members survived, but Pause got a clean headshot on him - well, that something for him to drink to.

Etho dropped down from a ledge with his squad and followed Beef once again. They kept low to the ground, guns cocked and loaded, ears perked and eyes peeled. When they got to a more secluded and unpatrolled area, Etho started to fidget with his gun again. Pause spun around and almost stopped him in his tracks. 

“God, can you fucking stop that?” Pause hissed, standing close. Their faces were close to touching and Etho could see the sweat dripping down his forehead and a few spots of gunpowder splashed across his face.

His lips urged to curl into a smirk. “Yeah, I guess I can.”

“Good.” Pause’s eyes narrowed slightly, before he furrowed his brows and turned back to catch up with Beef.

Of course, Etho carried on messing with Pause. Even during the exhausting trips through the thick forests that sang with life and densely packed stations littered with bodies, where all 3 men felt like they could collapse, he continued to push Pause until his breaking point.

It was, arguably, worth it. Even if he had to deal with the cold side-eye from Beef, Etho deemed that it was worth it just to see the frustrated glint in the Native’s eyes and his ever so kind words accompanied such.

“God, you told me you’d stop! Beef, can you tell him to stop?” 

“I told you that I _can_ stop, not that I _will_! Honestly,” Etho said smugly, rolling his eyes. Pride rose in his chest when Pause’s mouth opened and closed with embarrassment.

Before he shot Etho a glare and turned away - out of embarrassment, but not like he’d ever admit that - he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Fuck you,” he snarled after a flicker of silence, settling on his words.

“Fuck you too, dipshit,” Etho muttered quietly, reloading his gun and breathing in the earthy smell of the forest. He sat down on a tree root and leaned back against the trunk, rolling his shoulders and breathing heavily. He could feel the tension, still white hot and uncomfortably suffocating, starting to settle between him and Pause and let his mind wander.

— — —

_Before Etho could even let the others register what was going on, he threw the grenade over the wall. A wicked grin spread across his face as he heard it explode, glee building up in his chest. He looked through the scope, firing almost mercilessly at his enemies._

_“Etho, are you fucking crazy?” Pause’s panicked voice went in one ear and out through the other, until he was grabbed by the face and pulled away from his gun. “Etho!”_

_“What?!” the youngest responded, barely even noticing the grenade that went flying over their head. The sun’s glint on the shiny weapon caught his eye and he shouted, “Oh- fuck! Grenade!” once it landed, ripping himself away from Pause and kicking the thing away from them._

_When it exploded, he felt everything within him freeze up. It felt like a sun exploded in front of him, blinding him even with his eyes scrunched. Etho’s hand immediately covered his bad eye, lightly touching the scar that flanked the top and bottom and cradling his stomach with the other._

_When he opened his eyes to look for his squadmates, his heart dropped into his stomach to see Pause panicking over a gash in his leg. A gash that Etho made._

_Now, of course Etho couldn’t hear anything that Pause and Beef were yelling at him. His hearing completely flatlined, and the ringing very quickly drove its way into his soul. He couldn’t hear Pause’s swears and insults that he fired right at the youngest soldier as they all stumbled back to the barracks, hearts heavy and pain searing. Beef was silent the whole way back._

_Well, he usually was, but this time Etho could tell it was a different silence._

— — —

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present… or woke him up. He opened his eyes to see Beef watching him, worry shining in his brown eyes. Pause was nowhere to be seen and he let himself relax slightly. “You good, Etho? You passed out there.”

Sighing heavily, Etho mumbled something groggily and rubbed his bad eye, an unknown and uncomfortable feeling spreading to his stomach when he felt the scar. “Where’s Pause?”

Beef rolled his eyes and stood up. “Gone for a smoke, probably.”

“Again? Of course.”

“You’ve been knocked out for about an hour, Etho. You know how bad his addiction is,” Beef sighed, his face scrunching in disgust at the thought.

Etho massaged his temple, choosing not to respond. He thought back to his flashbacks. Pause still didn’t forgive him fully, even if he said he did - Etho could tell from the way he would hesitate when handing him grenades. Beef was furious with him for fucking the mission up, though perhaps more disappointed than angry. Even thinking about it made a cold pit begin a storm inside Etho’s stomach.

He held a lot of respect for the two of them. Beef was smart, a great leader and nice, but also intimidating and ice cold when he was disappointed. He was supposed to retire a few missions ago, but got roped back into another and another and another - Etho didn’t blame him for being frustrated and short-tempered with his squad.

Pause was funny. He was sweet and offered his help when either Beef or Etho needed it, but he was hotheaded and stubborn, often refusing to apologise even when he was in the wrong. Perhaps that was what made it fun to tease him. Pause also smoked, something Beef disliked him doing.

After checking through his guns, Etho went to go find his comrade. He didn’t have to go far, finding the Native standing by a tree. Large leaves, nettles and sticks surrounded his feet. “Why are you standing there? Seems like an awkward place.”

“Yeah, and you’re in sandals,” Pause said with a smile, glancing down at Etho’s feet. “What are you gonna do, sandal boy?”

Etho’s eyes narrowed. “Shut it.”

Pause stepped out of the nettle patch with a laugh. “Why do you wear sandals anyway?” He tilted his head, inhaling from his cigarette and breathing out, raising his eyebrows.

“I dunno, they’re pretty comfy.” Etho responded, shrugging and taking the cigarette from Pause. He took a puff, tapping the end and watching the ash fall onto the dry dirt below him. “Why do you not wear sandals?”

The Native sighed, choosing not to respond. He looked up at the canopy, eyes settling on the lush, warm view of the trees. He found himself smiling, if only a small tug on the corner of his lips, at the blue that peeked through the breaks of the branches.

The chirping of the birds that flew - swooping, almost dancing, with each other - from tree to tree, the constant buzzing of insects and the rustling of the woodland creatures as they innocently travelled through the thick foliage, accompanied by the almost inaudible susurration of a nearby stream, really helped calm his mind. 

If he’d never turned to smoking pot and getting high in his younger years, Pause may have spent the rest of his life living alone by a brook deep in a forest.

Etho handed the cigarette back to him, pulling out a small book. He studied the cover like he’d done several times before, trailing a finger down its rough leather cover. He could taste the words on his tongue without even opening it. “Say, Pause, I got a question…”

“Shoot it.”

“Um…” Etho paused, trying to work out what to say. He wanted to tread carefully, “Are you, say... still mad at me? Because of that mission?”

All Etho got for a response was a burning silence, the sizzle of a cigarette being put out and the cracking of branches beneath heavy footsteps.


End file.
